by Robin Hobb
I could not resist the temptation to feign sleep. She sat beside me and the bed gave sweetly with her warm weight. She leaned over me and as I lay perfectly motionless she set her soft mouth upon mine. I reached out and drew her to me, marvelling. Yesterday, I had been a man seldom touched: the clap of a friend on my shoulder, or the casual jostling of a crowd, or, too often lately, hands seeking to throttle me. That had been the extent of my personal contact. Then, last night, and now this. She finished the kiss and then lay beside me, gently arranging herself against me. I took a deep breath of her scent and kept still, savouring the places where her body touched mine and made warmth. The sensation was like a soap bubble floating on the wind; I feared even to breathe lest it vanish.
Nice, agreed Nighteyes. Not so much aloneness here. More like pack.
I stiffened and pulled slightly away from Molly.
‘Newboy? What’s wrong?’
Mine. This is mine, and not a thing to share with you. Do you understand?
Selfish. This is not a thing like meat, made more or less by sharing.
‘Just a moment, Molly. I’ve cramped a muscle.’
Which one? Smirking.
No, it is not like meat. Meat I would always share with you, and shelter, and always I will come to fight beside you if you need me. Always I will let you join me in the hunt, and always I will help you hunt. But this, with my … female. This I must have to myself. Alone.
Nighteyes snorted, scratched at a flea. You are always marking off lines that do not exist. The meat, the hunt, the defending of territory and females … these are all pack. When she bears cubs, shall I not hunt to feed them? Shall I not defend them?
Nighteyes … I cannot explain this to you just now. I should have spoken with you earlier. For now, will you withdraw? I promise we shall discuss it. Later.
I waited. Nothing. No sense of him at all. One down, one to go.
‘Newboy? Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. I just … need a moment.’ I think it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Molly was beside me, suddenly hesitant, on the point of pulling away from me. I had to concentrate on finding my boundaries, on placing my mind in the middle of myself and setting limits to my thoughts. I took the breaths and let them out evenly. Adjusting harness. That was what it always reminded me of, and the image I always used. Not loose enough to slip, not tight enough to bind. Confining myself to my own body, lest I startle Verity awake.
‘I heard the rumours,’ Molly began, then stopped. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have come. I thought perhaps you might need … but maybe what you need is to be alone.’
‘No, Molly, please, Molly, come back, come back,’ and I flung myself across the bed after her and managed to catch the hem of her skirt as she stood.
She turned back to me, still full of uncertainty.
‘You are always exactly what I need. Always.’
A smile ghosted across her lips and she sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You seemed so distant.’
‘I was. Sometimes I just need to clear my mind.’ I stopped, uncertain of what else I could say without lying to her. I was determined to do that no longer. I reached and took her hand into mine.
‘Oh,’ she said after a moment. There was an awkward little pause as I offered no further explanation. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked carefully after a few more moments had slipped by.
‘I’m fine. I didn’t get in to see the King today. I tried, but he wasn’t feeling well, and …’
‘Your face is bruised. And scratched. There were rumours …’
I took a silent breath. ‘Rumours?’ Verity had enjoined the men to silence. Burrich wouldn’t have spoken, nor Blade. Perhaps none of them had spoken to anyone who hadn’t been there. But men will always discuss what they have witnessed together, and it wouldn’t take much for anyone to overhear them.
‘Don’t play cat and mouse with me. If you don’t want to tell me, then say so.’
‘The King-in-Waiting asked us not to speak of it. That isn’t the same as not wanting to tell you about it.’
Molly considered a moment. ‘I suppose not. And I shouldn’t listen to gossip, I know. But the rumours were so strange … and they brought bodies back to the keep, for burning. And there was a strange woman, weeping and weeping in the kitchen today. She said that Forged ones had stolen and killed her child. And someone said you had fought them to try and get the baby back, and another said, no, that you’d come upon them just as a bear attacked them. Or something. Someone said you had killed them all, and then someone who had helped burn the bodies said that at least two of them had been mauled by an animal of some kind.’ She fell silent and looked at me. She rested on her side, bare inches away from me, her eyes looking directly into mine. I didn’t want to think about any of it. I didn’t want to lie to her, nor even to tell her the truth. I couldn’t tell anyone the complete truth. So I just looked into her eyes and wished that things were simpler for us.
‘FitzChivalry?’
I would never get used to hearing that name from her. I sighed. ‘The King asked us not to speak of it. But … yes, a child was killed by Forged ones. And I was there, too late. It was the ugliest, saddest thing I have ever witnessed.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just so hard, not knowing.’
‘I know.’ I reached out to touch her hair. She leaned her head against my hand. ‘I told you once that I had dreamed of you, at Siltbay. I journeyed from the Mountain Kingdom, all the way back to Buckkeep, not knowing if you had survived. Sometimes I thought the burning house had fallen on the cellar; at other times, I thought the woman with the sword had finished you …’
Molly looked at me levelly. ‘When the house fell, a great wind of sparks and smoke whooshed towards us. It blinded her, but my back was to it. I … I killed her with the axe.’ She suddenly started to tremble. ‘I told no one of it. No one. How did you know?’
‘I dreamed it.’ I pulled gently at her hand and she came down on the bed beside me. I put my arms around her, and felt her trembling still. ‘I have true dreams, sometimes. Not often,’ I told her quietly.
She drew back a little from me. Her eyes searched my face. ‘You would not lie to me about this, Newboy?’
The question hurt, but I deserved it. ‘No. This is not a lie. I promise you that. And I promise that I shall never lie …’
Her fingers stopped my lips. ‘I hope to spend the rest of my life with you. Make me no promises that you cannot keep for the rest of your days.’ Her other hand went to the lacing of my shirt. It was my turn to tremble.
I kissed her fingers. And then her mouth. At some time, Molly got up and latched and barred my door. I remember sending up a fervent prayer that this would not be the night that Chade finally returned from his journeying. It was not. Instead I journeyed afar that night, into a place that was becoming ever more familiar, but none the less wondrous to me.
She left me in the deep of the night, shaking me awake to insist that I latch and bar the door after her. I wanted to dress and walk her back to her room, but she refused me indignantly, saying she was perfectly capable of going up some stairs, and that the less we were seen together, the better. Reluctantly I conceded her logic. The sleep I fell into then was deeper than any the valerian had induced.
I awoke to thunder and shouting. I found myself on my feet, dazed and confused. After a moment, the thunder turned to pounding on my door, and the shouting was Burrich’s repetition of my name. ‘A moment!’ I managed to call back. I ached everywhere. I dragged on some clothes and staggered to the door
. It took a long time for my fingers to manage the catch. ‘What’s wrong?’ I demanded.
Burrich just stared at me. He was washed and dressed, hair and beard combed, and carrying two axes.
‘Oh.’
‘Verity’s tower room. Hurry up, we’re already late. But wash first. What is that scent?’
‘Perfumed candles,’ I extemporized. ‘They’re supposed to bring restful dreams.’
Burrich snorted. ‘That’s not the kind of dreams that scent would bring me. It’s full of musk, boy. Your whole room reeks of it. Meet me up in the tower.’
And he was gone, striding purposefully down the hall. I went back into my room, groggily realizing that this was his idea of early morning. I washed myself thoroughly with cold water, not enjoying it, but lacking the time to warm any. I dug about for fresh clothes and was dragging them on when the pounding at my door began again. ‘I’m nearly there,’ I called out. The pounding went on. That meant Burrich was angry. Well, so was I. Surely he could understand how badly I ached this morning. I jerked the door open to confront him and the Fool slipped in as smoothly as a waft of smoke. He wore a new motley of black and white. The sleeves of his shirt were all embroidered with black vines crawling up his arms like ivy. Above the black collar, his face was as pale as a winter moon. Winterfest, I thought dully. Tonight was the first night of Winterfest. The winter had already been as long as any five others I had known. But tonight we would begin to mark the mid-point of it.
‘What do you want?’ I demanded, in no mood for his silliness.
He took a deep appreciative sniff. ‘Some of what you had would be lovely,’ he suggested, and then danced back gracefully at the look on my face. I was instantly angry. He leaped lightly to the centre of my tousled bed, then to the other side, putting it between us. I lunged across it after him. ‘But not from you,’ he exclaimed coquettishly and fluttered his hands at me in girlish rebuke before retreating again.
‘I’ve no time for you,’ I told him disgustedly. ‘Verity’s expecting me and I cannot keep him waiting.’ I rolled off the bed and stood to adjust my clothing. ‘Out of my room.’
‘Ah, such a tone. Time was when the Fitz could handle a jest better than this.’ He pirouetted in the middle of my room, then stopped abruptly. ‘Are you truly angry with me?’ he demanded straightforwardly.
I gaped to hear him speak so bluntly. I considered the question. ‘I was,’ I said guardedly, wondering if he were deliberately drawing me out. ‘You made a fool of me that day, with that song, before all those people.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t take titles to yourself. Only I am the Fool. And the Fool is always only what I am. Especially that day, with that song, before all those people.’
‘You made me doubt our friendship,’ I said bluntly.
‘Ah, good. For doubt not that others must always doubt our friendship if we are to remain doughty friends.’
‘I see. Then it was your end to sow rumours of strife between us. I understand, then. But I still must go.’
‘Farewell, then. Have fun playing at axes with Burrich. Try not to be dumb-struck with all he teaches you today.’ He put two logs onto my failing fire, and made a great show of settling himself before it.
‘Fool,’ I began uncomfortably. ‘You are my friend, I know. But I like not to leave you here, in my room, while I am gone.’
‘I like it not when others enter my room when I am not there,’ he pointed out archly.
I flushed miserably. ‘That was long ago. And I apologized for my curiosity. I assure you, I have never done it again.’
‘Nor shall I, after this. And when you come back, I shall apologize to you. Shall that do?’
I was going to be late. Burrich was not going to be amused. No help for it. I sat down on the edge of the rumpled bed. Molly and I had lain here. Suddenly, it was a personal area. I tried to be casual as I tugged the quilts up over the featherbeds. ‘Why do you want to stay in my room? Are you in danger?’
‘I live in danger, Fitzy-fitz. As do you. We are all in danger. I should like to stay here for part of the day, and try to find a way out of that danger. Or at least a way to lessen it.’ He shrugged significantly toward the scatter of scrolls.
‘Verity entrusted those to me,’ I said uneasily.
‘Obviously because he feels you are a man whose judgement he trusts. So, perhaps you shall judge it safe to entrust them to me?’
It is one thing to trust a friend with one’s own possessions. It is another to allow him those another has put in your safekeeping. I found I had no doubt of my own trust of the Fool. But. ‘Perhaps it would be wiser to ask Verity first,’ I offered.
‘The less connection between Verity and me, the better it is for both of us.’ The Fool spoke flatly.
‘You do not care for Verity?’ I was startled.
‘I am the King’s Fool. He is the King-in-Waiting. Let him wait. When he is king, I shall be his. If he does not get us all killed before then.’
‘I will hear nothing spoken against Prince Verity,’ I told him softly.
‘No? Then you must walk about with your ears closely stoppered these days.’
I walked to the door, set my hand to the latch. ‘We must leave now, Fool. I am already late.’ I kept my voice steady. His sneer at Verity had cut me as deeply as if aimed at me.
‘Do not be the Fool, Fitz. That is my role. Think. A man can serve only one master. No matter what your lips may say, Verity is your king. I fault you not for that. Do you fault me that Shrewd is mine?’
‘I do not fault you. Nor do I make mock of him before you.’
‘Nor do you come to visit him, no matter how many times I have urged it.’
‘I was at his door just yesterday. I was turned away. They said he was not well.’
‘And if that were to happen at Verity’s door, would you take it so meekly?’
That made me stop and think. ‘No. I don’t suppose I would.’
‘Why do you give him up so easily?’ The Fool spoke softly, like a man grieved. ‘Why does not Verity bestir himself for his father, instead of luring away Shrewd’s men to his side?’
‘I have not been lured away. Rather Shrewd has not seen fit to see me. As for Verity, well, I cannot speak for him. But all know it is Regal that Shrewd favours of his sons.’
‘Do all know that? Then do all know as well where Regal’s heart is truly set?’
‘Some do,’ I said briefly. This was dangerous talk.
‘Reflect on this. Both of us serve the king we love best. Yet there is another that we love least. I do not think we have a conflict of loyalty, Fitz, while we are united in who we love least. Come. Confess to me that you have scarce had time to set your eyes upon the scrolls, and I shall remind you that the time you have not had has fled us all too swiftly. This is not a task that can wait upon your convenience.’
I teetered on the decision. The Fool came suddenly closer. His eyes were always hard to meet and harder to read. But the set of his mouth showed me his desperation. ‘I will trade with you. I offer you a bargain you will find nowhere else. A secret I hold, promised to you, after you have let me search the scrolls for a secret which may not even be there.’
‘What secret?’ I asked reluctantly.
‘My secret.’ He turned aside from me and stared at the wall. ‘The mystery of the Fool. Whence comes he and why?’ He cast me a sidelong glance and said no more.
The curiosity of a dozen years leaped in me. ‘Freely given?’ I asked.
‘No. Offered as a bargain, as I said.’
I considered. Then, ‘I’ll see you later. Latch the door wh
en you leave.’ And I slipped out.
There were serving-folk moving about in the corridors. I was grievously late. I forced myself into a creaking trot, and then to a run. I did not slow for the stairs to Verity’s tower, but rushed up their full length, knocked once and then entered.
Burrich turned to me, greeting me with a frown. The spartan furnishings of the room had already been pushed to one wall, save for Verity’s window chair. Verity was already ensconced in it. He turned his head to me more slowly, with eyes still full of distance. There was a drugged look to his eyes and mouth, a laxness painful to see when one knew what it meant. The Skill hunger gnawed at him. I feared that what he wished to teach me would only feed it and increase it. Yet how could either of us say no? I had learned something yesterday. It had not been a pleasant lesson, but once learned it could not be undone. I knew now that I would do whatever I must to drive the Red Ships from my shore. I was not the king, I would never be the king. But the folk of the Six Duchies were mine, just as they were Chade’s. I understood now why Verity spent himself so recklessly.
‘I beg pardon that I am late. I was detained. But I am ready to begin now.’
‘How do you feel?’ The question came from Burrich, asked with genuine curiosity. I turned to find him regarding me as sternly as before, but also with some puzzlement.
‘Stiff, sir. A bit. The run up the stairs warmed me up some. Sore, from yesterday. But otherwise I am all right.’
A bit of amusement quirked at his face. ‘No tremors, FitzChivalry? No darkening at the edge of your vision, no dizzy spells?’
I paused to think for a moment. ‘No.’
‘Be damned.’ Burrich gave a snort of amusement. ‘Evidently the cure has been to beat it out of you. I’ll remember that the next time you need a healer.’
Over the next hour, he seemed intent on applying his new theory of healing. The heads of the axes were blunt ones, and he had bundled them both in rags for this first lesson, but that did not prevent bruises. To be honest, most of them I earned with my own clumsiness. Burrich was not trying to land any blows that day, but only to teach me to use the whole weapon, not just the head of it. To keep Verity with me was effortless, for he remained in the same room with us. He was silent within me that day, offering no counsels or observations or warnings, but merely riding with my eyes. Burrich told me that the axe was not a sophisticated weapon, but was a very satisfactory one if used correctly. At the end of the session, he pointed out to me that he had been gentle with me, in consideration of the wounds I already bore. Verity dismissed us, and we both went down the stairs rather more slowly than I had come up.
